


Ghost

by paraboobizarre



Category: The Following
Genre: M/M, Shameless Smut, kink_following
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraboobizarre/pseuds/paraboobizarre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt (over at LJ kink_meme): So, Jacob can see and interact with his ghostly Paul. I demand sexy times.</p><p>Sexy times it is - shameless PWP :)</p><p>This sets right in after Jacob leaves Emma in his room at the end of 1x10</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

Jacob is in no hurry to return to his room. He's not especially keen on Emma's sickening puppy dog, please-understand-me-I-had-no-choice look. So he wanders around the house, checks in on Joey, who's burrowed underneath his blanket, clutching a teddy bear, a deep frown etched into his face. Eventually he arrives at the kitchen where he rummages through the fridge, finding peanut butter and a tray of fresh raspberries. He grabs some milk and the other stuff, hops on the counter and starts to eat, because seriously, fuck it. Let other people prepare their food where he put his ass and bare feet – he couldn't care less. As inviting as living at the house and finally being with Joe was before, now the idea seems a lot less appealing, hollow somehow.

“Ah, but that's because I'm not here.”

Jacob almost chokes on the milk he's drinking straight from the bottle. Paul's leaning against the door frame, in boxers and a washed out T-shirt, his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at Jacob and the impromptu midnight snacks laid out all around him and raises an eyebrow.

“You always were a bit of a pig, you know?” Paul chuckles, pushing off the door frame and walking towards the counter Jacob is sitting on.  
Jacob stares at him, waiting for that mindless panic to set in again but it's not coming. He killed Paul before. Again. He can't be here now. It's – 

“Impossible,” Paul finishes for him. He pulls the tray of raspberries to him and grabs one, popping it into his mouth. The indulgent sound he makes when he bites down on it, is something Jacob remembers very well. Not necessarily in connection to eating raspberries though. 

“I really shouldn't be here,” Paul continues, taking another raspberry and giving Jacob a meaningful look, “and yet here I am. Eating nonetheless.” 

Jacob takes another swig of the milk, before he leans back on his hands and studies Paul, watching Paul eat another raspberry, scratching at his chest and pulling at the collar of his T-shirt. Doing Paul things. His body is faster than his mind and before his brain has caught up to what he's doing, he's leaning across, scooting forwards, grabbing Paul's hand.  
It's warm and that same mixture of soft and hard he remembers. Those same long fingers and the way the knuckles stick out almost a bit too much. He slides his hands up Paul's arm, feels the hairs on it against his palm, across that softest patch of skin on the inside of his elbow up to his biceps.

Paul, who's graduated to scooping peanut butter out of the jar with his finger, stops and looks at him like he's gone slightly insane. He's probably not that far off.  
Slowly he brings up that peanut butter covered finger to his mouth, licking it off methodically, all the while fixating Jacob in a way that makes heat sow down his chest. 

“Are you done feeling me up?” Jacob knows it's meant to be a joke, but Paul's voice has that deeper, slightly gravelly pitch to it and the way he's looking at Jacob is anything but a joke. 

Instead of an answer, Jacob swings his legs over the counter, pulling Paul between them, grabbing his face and crushing their lips together. Paul tastes of peanut butter and raspberries and Jacob hauls him impossibly closer, linking his ankles over the small of Paul's back and kissing him like his life depends on it, licking that taste off Paul's tongue till he can hear him moan into the kiss.  
Paul's hands stroke through his hair, down his back to his ass, grabbing him and pulling Jacob closer against him, halfway off the counter.  
Jacob pulls back from the kiss just long enough to tear Paul's T-shirt off, needing to feel more skin. When he brings the T-shirt up to his nose, inhaling deeply, it even smells like Paul. That mix of aftershave and soap and it makes his head spin when he realizes how much he missed that smell. 

Paul is mouthing against his neck up to his ear, kissing him in that sweet spot just underneath it before whispering, “Upstairs?.” He runs a single finger down between Jacob's shoulder blades, right between his tattoos, the touch so light, it's barely there but it's like it is made of fire and ice at the same time, burning him up and making him shiver all at once. 

Jacob half expects Paul to be gone when he jumps off the counter, but he's still there. He's there when they leave the kitchen, stepping on his heels, he's walking so closely behind and running his flat palms up and down Jacob's sides, whispering things into his ear Jacob can barely understand over the mad beating of his own heart. He's there at the top of the stairs when they lose their footing as they make out and crash into a side table, almost toppling over a horridly expensive looking vase. Paul's still there when he follows Jacob into his room, snickering like a demented teenager and pawing at his ass. Paul's still there when he pushes Jacob on the bed, climbing on top of him and rubbing the hard bulge in his boxers against his. 

When they kiss this time the taste of peanut butter and raspberries is long gone and all Jacob can taste is Paul and it tastes just like he remembered it, filling him with an urgency that makes him claw at Paul's back and rub up against him until they are both panting. He lost this once already and the fact that, against all odds, he can suddenly have that, have Paul, again, makes everything so much more exciting, more immediate.  
He rolls Paul over, smearing sloppy kisses down his throat to his chest, licking and biting at his nipples until they're hard under his tongue and he can hear Paul swear under his breath, his fingers tangling in his hair. He wanders down further, letting his lips brush down the treasure trail to where Paul's cock is already straining against the confines of his boxers. He pulls them off hurriedly, throwing his own after them. When he looks up at Paul, he looks absolutely wrecked, his eyes glazed over, lips bee stung from their kissing.  
“You don't have to,” Paul says, his voice sounding as if his throat is lined with rocks and sandpaper.

Maybe not but the thing is Jacob really wants to. Kissing the place where Paul's leg meets his hip, down to the soft insides of his thighs, draws sounds out of Paul that make Jacob's blood pump faster, make his own cock twitch where he is rubbing himself against the sheets. He licks up the length of his cock, the skin of it so silky and tasting so much like Paul. When his lips close over the head Paul's hip push up into his mouth on their own accord. He runs his tongue over the head, tasting precum and when he runs his tongue over the slit, lapping up more, he feels Paul's entire body shudder under his hands. He wraps his fingers around the base of Paul's cock, stroking him in time, trying to take him down further, which is not all that easy because Paul's not exactly small and Jacob's never really done this before. Paul tastes and feels amazing though, the skin so soft and his dick so hard, like someone wrapped silk around steel and the sounds of pleasure Jacob can coax out of him when he runs the tip of his tongue against the sensitive spot just underneath the tip or scrapes his teeth just lightly against the length of him are the best thing in the whole world. He gets so lost in it, he jerks in surprise when Paul's hand comes down on his neck, pushing him off. 

“Any more of this and I'm going to come,” he rasps, hauling Jacob up towards him and kissing him, licking his taste right off his tongue. Paul's flat palm strokes down over Jacob's chest, wrapping around his dick, making him gasp. Jacob can't help but thrust up into Paul's hand like an eager teenager. It was always like that, right from the first time he touched him. With Emma, with any girl, it was always second guessing, never knowing what feels good but the first time Paul touched him, Jacob felt like he was about to vibrate out of his own skin. 

He lets Paul roll him on his back willingly and push his legs up, his eyes rolling back into his head moments later when Paul's lips closer over his balls, sucking one into his mouth, his fingers straying down towards his hole, circling it gently. Awkwardly he grapples at the bedside table, trying to reach the lube he found in there the day he came here. He tosses the bottle towards Paul, jerking moments later when he feels it cold and wet against his entrance.  
Paul is smearing kisses up the insides of his thighs, lightly biting him the moment the first finger breaches him and Jacob rocks down, relishing the feel of it again. Soon it's three fingers, scissoring and stretching him, while Paul licks a hot stripe up Jacob's cock, kissing the tip, pushing up against his prostate insistently and making Jacob's entire body seize up with the sheer overwhelming pleasure of it all.  
Eventually Paul pulls his fingers out, grabbing for the lube and squirting some in his palm. He hisses at his own touch when he strokes his cock, biting his lips, before kneeling in front of Jacob dabbing the excess against his hole. 

“Okay like that?” He asks, scooting closer, his palm sliding up Jacob's shin casually but that simple touch leaves goose bumps in its wake.  
“Or we could-” he begins again before Jacob surges up, his fingers closing around Paul's neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He pushes Paul until he is sitting back cross legged, climbing into his lap and kissing Paul until he feels dizzy. He reaches behind himself, lining Paul up with his entrance and pushing down, sliding down slowly. Paul's arm tightens around his ribcage so hard it almost hurts, his breath as he breaks the kiss tipping into a low groan as Jacob sinks down on his lap. 

“God.” It's nothing more than the ghost of a word, brushing against Jacob's lips as he pushes their foreheads together, his fingers tangling in Paul's hair as he tries to catch his breath.  
“I've always wanted to do that,” he mutters, their lips brushing together as he speaks, not caring if he's being mushy at all, because this, having Paul close like this, tasting and touching him, this is it. 

He kisses Paul again and it's that perfect mixture of demanding and gentle, sweet and rough that makes the world around him fall away, makes him forget there are at least fifty other people in this house as he rocks and grinds down against Paul, not caring if anyone hears him. It's hardly ideal for either of them but the way Paul is clutching at him, pulling him closer and kissing him like that makes up for a lot of it. Paul is sucking and biting at his shoulder, his hand wrapping around Jacob's hard cock between them, gathering the wetness at the tip and smearing it down, stroking him in a way that turns every breath that leaves his body into a throaty moan, that he can feel his mad heartbeat thundering against his chest.

When lies back down Paul follows, the weight of him so exquisitely heavy Jacob just wants to latch onto him until they fuse together into a single being. Paul pushes back in without preamble and Jacob's breath punches out of him in a gasp. The first few strokes are long and shallow and Jacob closes his eyes, enjoying feeling the drag of their bodies against each other, the way he can rub his cock against Paul's belly, tilting up his hips until Paul hits his prostate just at the right angle to make heat and shivers chase each other down his skin. 

Then Paul pulls back, his fingers trailing down the middle of Jacob's chest before he grips his thighs, pulling them up around his hips. When he thrust back in this time it's hard and sudden, pleasure laced with pain and Jacob grips his cock loosely, jerking himself as Paul fucks him. He's close to coming, he can feel it starting in every corner of his body. It feels like the soles of his feet are on fire, his nipples are so hard they ache and every time he runs his fingers over the tip of his cock it feels like flames are licking up spine. Paul is rubbing against his prostate in maddening precision, making his toes curl and Jacob groans, his entire body seizing up as he comes, warm liquid splattering over his hand and stomach up to his chest. Over him he hears Paul's choked off groan as he contracts around him, squeezing him so hard it has got to hurt. Paul shoves against him one last time, his hips milling aimlessly against Jacob's ass as he comes, panting against Jacob's neck. 

“Wow!” Paul eventually manages. He's lying next to him, his arm still under Jacob's neck. Jacob's still too preoccupied with catching his breath to think anything much.

Paul wheezes out another breath.  
“Seriously, all we need now is a pottery wheel and a Best of Percy Sledge – we'll be unstoppable.”  
“Huh?” Odd shapes are blinking in and out of focus in Jacob's vision.  
“Pottery wheel?” Paul repeats, pushing himself up on one elbow to look at Jacob. “When a man loves a woman? Patrick Swayze?” He tries again.  
All Jacob manages is a confused shake of the head. It feels like he just came his brains out and he can't really feel his legs to be honest.  
“Ghost?”  
Still nothing.

Paul's expression is a strange mixture of fondness and exasperation when he shakes his head and lies back down again.

“They should seriously consider revoking your Gay Club membership card for that one,” he teases, staring up at the ceiling, “and yes, I know...you're not 'gay',” he adds languidly, supplying the quotation marks with his fingers.

“Oh shut up!”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, if the Ghost reference at the end came a bit abruptly. I just HAD to!  
> ;)


End file.
